I love that my love for masculinity has nothing to do with men, and in fact, exists in spite of them
I love being a homosexual
I love butches refusal to accept their assigned gender role and their bravery to love me and femmes like me loudly and proudly despite being the same sex
I’m so glad that I was born a lesbian. I’m so glad I’m not attracted to men. I’m so glad that I’m wired to be attracted to strong, masculine, beautiful and handsome butches.
I’m so glad I was wired to lust for strong, sturdy, wide and built women. Women who bend what it ‘means’ to be a woman. Women who exist outside of the boxes men built for us. Butch lesbians who may not even see themselves as women because that word and the role has rejected them and they’ve rejected it right back.
They know that femmes will never reject them. That we will see them for what they are. For who they are and not just what the world expected for them. For how desirable they are. How brave they are. How they need a place to be held, too. Femmes will be that place.
I love you butch lesbians. I love you as my sisters, my brothers if you prefer it, my protectors and the ones I will protect in kind. You will never be unloved so long as I am alive and I know there are thousands of femme lesbians who feel exactly the way I do.
working on part 2 of the mechanic!Sev x reader fic btw!! Also random thought but it’s crazy how just last year i was extremely scared about writing on here again (especially in a new community) and you guys have been so nice and shown sm love <333 i love it here
Okay but imagine you and Sev have been good friends (who are actually in love w each other) for years and you both love working out and running so a few years ago you decided you wanted to run the nyc marathon together. You two worked really hard and finally got qualifying times, and the trip to nyc was amazing and you had so much fun. The day of the race came and you both were in great spirits, had so much support and killed it with sub 4 hour times! At the end you both meet up with you friends who came to support you and mingle and what not. Sev calls your name and when you see her grinning ear to ear holding a bouquet of roses and a big sign that says “You+ Me + 26.2 Miles = A NYC Love Story, Be my girlfriend?” Even though your legs were dead you somehow found the strength to jump in her arms and shower her in kisses, as your friends cheer and laugh (they didn’t think she’d actually do it lol)
as promised,,, here’s that mechanic!sevika x scientist!reader blurb i was talking about. It’s a bit longer than i expected,,,i hope its not too hard to get through😅 if people find this story interesting i’ll prob keep going!
You had only been in the city for three weeks, and things were finally starting to fall into place.
After years of clawing your way through your PhD program, sleepless nights, underpaid research, caffeine addiction and all, you’d landed a position as a Scientist I at a well-regarded university. The move had been intimidating, but the campus was beautiful, your coworkers were surprisingly normal, and your new lab had all the equipment you’d been dreaming of during your grad school era of suffering. It felt… good. Like your life was finally shifting into the next gear.
And then today happened.
It started with your alarm not going off. You barely had time to throw yourself together, let alone pack lunch or review your lab notes. You missed the first half of your department’s morning meeting, where the funding lead decided to “open the floor for discussion” and your absence was definitely noted. Your experiments refused to cooperate, your samples were contaminated, and your PI sent you an email that just said, “Let’s touch base. You free this week?”
By the time you finally left the lab starving, exhausted, and clinging to the last threads of your will to live, you just wanted to get in your car, drive home, and pretend the day never happened.
Unfortunately, your car had other plans.
Not even ten minutes into traffic, your dashboard chimed and the check engine light blinked on.
“No. Nope. Absolutely not today,” you muttered, flicking it like that would do anything. Spoiler: it didn’t. You weren’t a car person. At all. Car trouble sat somewhere between “unplanned surgery” and “airplane turbulence” on your personal anxiety scale. You immediately opened your maps app, hands white-knuckled on the wheel, frantically searching for any nearby auto shops still open.
Most had already closed or were closing soon, except for one: Iron & Chrome Auto. Small. Local. Still open for another hour. Close enough to be your best (and only) option.
Fifteen minutes later, you pulled into the lot. The shop wasn’t flashy by any means. Just a squat, concrete building with two open bays, a couple of cars on lifts, and an oil-stained sign overhead. A single neon OPEN sign flickered behind the glass window. It wasn’t much, but at least your engine hadn’t exploded on the way.
You grabbed your bag, took a deep breath, and walked in.
The front office was modest. Clean, but cluttered with clipboards, parts catalogs, and the faint smell of grease and coffee. A guy that looked around your age sat behind the counter, tapping a pen against his clipboard. His name tag read DJ, and he looked about as thrilled to be here as you felt.
He didn’t look up right away, so you cleared your throat gently. “Hi, um… are you still taking walk-ins?”
DJ glanced up, pulled one of his earbuds out, and gave you a quick once-over. “Depends. What’s the issue?”
“My check engine light came on like twenty minutes ago. It was running fine before that… I think.”
DJ let out a low whistle. “Could be nothing. Could be your whole engine’s about to drop.”
You stared at him, heart freezing in your chest.
“…Kidding,” he added a beat later, clearly used to messing with people. “Probably. Let me check if Sev’s free.”
“Sev?”
“Boss. She does diagnostics.”
He leaned over, pressing a button on the desk’s intercom system. “Yo Sev, check engine walk-in up front.”
There was a pause, and then a low, gravelly voice crackled back through the speaker:
“Give me five.”
True to her word, five minutes later you heard the heavy clunk of boots across the shop floor.
She stepped through the garage door wiping her hands with a grease-stained rag, and for a moment, you forgot how to speak.
She was tall, broad-shouldered, and solid in a way that made the room feel smaller. Her tank top was streaked with oil, clinging to her frame in all the right places, and her dark hair was pulled into a loose bun with a few unruly strands hanging near her temples. The thing that really caught your eye was her mechanical arm. Matte black and sleek, like something straight out of a sci-fi novel.
You tried not to stare. Failed.
Her eyes flicked up and locked on yours.
“You good?” she asked, voice rough around the edges but not unkind. More… amused. Like she could already tell you were out of your element.
You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Sorry. Um, my check engine light came on. Not sure what’s wrong.”
“What kind of car?”
“2017 Corolla.”
“Bring it around back,” she said, already turning. “I’ll take a look. Name’s Sevika.”
You blinked. “Oh! I’m—” You stopped yourself. She didn’t ask. You weren’t sure why you felt like giving her your name so quickly anyway.
You hesitated for a second, then followed her out back, your heart beating faster than you’d like to admit. Something about her voice, her presence, left your nerves jangling.
The garage was quieter in the back, the hum of the city fading behind concrete walls. Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting sharp shadows across the tools, the oil-streaked floor, and the car lifts lined along one wall. It smelled like rubber and steel and something slightly burnt.
“Pop the hood,” Sevika said, already reaching for a pair of gloves.
You did as instructed, fumbling briefly with the latch before getting it open. She didn’t comment, but you caught the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
She leaned over the engine with practiced ease, one hand resting on the edge of the hood while the other adjusted a flashlight between her teeth. Her mechanical arm flexed smoothly as she dug in.
You stood nearby, trying not to look awkward, arms crossed like that would make you blend into the wall.
“So…” you ventured, just to break the silence, “how long have you been doing this?”
Sevika didn’t glance up. “Cars or dealing with anxious customers?”
You chuckled dryly. “Am I that obvious?”
“You walked in like your car personally betrayed you,” she said, pulling out a dipstick and examining the fluid. “Kinda endearing, though.”
You swallowed. “Is that mechanic code for ‘you’re a mess’?”
“Nah,” she replied, finally glancing at you with a slow smirk. “If I said you were a mess, you’d know.”
You laughed, a little too quickly. “Wow, okay. I see how it is.”
“Relax. You’re not the worst today.” She paused, then added dryly, “Had a guy come in last week with literal raccoons in his engine bay.”
Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“One of them growled at me,” she said with a straight face, then looked up when you snorted. “Swear on my socket set.”
You shook your head. “I feel like I should tip you just for dealing with that.”
“Not necessary,” she said. “But… if you wanted to buy me a drink sometime, I wouldn’t say no.”
You blinked.
That wasn’t your overworked brain making things up. That was flirting. Right?
Sevika didn’t wait for a reply—she just went back to poking around your engine, as if she hadn’t just casually short-circuited your entire brain.
“Looks like your O2 sensor’s throwing a fit,” she said, voice nonchalant again. “I can swap it out tonight, but it’ll take an hour or two. You cool to wait?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. That’s fine.”
She gave you a look like she knew exactly how flustered you were and was enjoying every second of it.
“There’s a couch in the back office,” she added, wiping her hands again. “Or you can hang out here and watch me work. Up to you.”
You hesitated.
“…You watching me gonna make you more or less nervous, Doc?”
You blinked. “I never told you I was—”
Sevika shrugged. “Didn’t. But you’ve got that post-grad burnout look in your eye. I know it well.”
You opened your mouth. Closed it. You couldn’t tell if she was psychic, terrifying, or just very, very observant.
“Go on, sit,” she said, nodding toward a stool near the wall. “I don’t bite.”
She paused. Then looked you dead in the eyes and added,
Will be posting a long blurb of scientist!reader x mechanic!sevika later today bc I can’t get it out of my head (also bc i’m a scientist and i like to put myself into everything involving sev but we’re gonna ignore that) i hope you guys like it,,,try to get over my posting anxiety 😅
trying to be a nonchalant feminine femme but all I do is curse at every sentence like it’s punctuation, laugh at farts, goon, laugh too loud and be socially awkward
I wish that i was actually good at writing bc i have these fully fleshed out ideas of lawyer!sevika x bartender!reader AND head chef!sevika x head waitress!reader but idk how to put it all into words
ik im not that active (i promise i will be when i graduate in may!) but i rlly want more friends on here😭 so arcane fans, sevika fans, lesbians (pls lesbians) come nd say hi nd let’s be moots😼
the women of america were once promised that butch dykes would be lurking in all corners of society, ready to corrupt our minds and turn us all gay. what ever happened to that. where are the butches uncle sam.
Have i been gone for like a month? Yeah… have I also been working on a multi part fully fleshed out fic based on that lawyer!Sevika blurb i made? ….also yes ;)
modern!Sevika where her contact name on ur phone is "hubby" and her profile pic is a goofy .5x picture you took of her standing on a chair and she video calls you when you're down bc just seeing the pfp makes you laugh
Call me a lesbian. But Butches are so hot. Masculine women are so hot. GNC bitches are so hot. Women with things perceived masculine, like muscles and body hair and still being feminine are so hot. Women with makeup who still present masculine are so hot. I'll be damned if y'all bitch about butch4butch. Don't be like those old age lesbians who switched up on us butches and decided to only support lesbian rights if they're hyperfeminized. Ain't no one here tryna be gay for the male eye. Me and my hot butch wife are going to the gym and then going to a restaurant in suits.
Thinking about college!au Sevika who throws discus and hammer for her school’s track and field team. She stays to herself and doesn’t really spend time with the rest of the people on the time because she doesn’t really care to. That’s until you show up to practice one day announcing that you’re shadowing the athletic trainer for the rest of the season to get some experience in the field. Sevika perks up at the sight of you and kinda does a 180°. She talks at practice now, jokes around when she gets the chance, (flexes hard asf when she sees you walking by) etc etc. When the next out of town meet came around she found herself praying the night before that you would somehow end up sitting near her on the bus. Luck seemed to be on her side as you actually ended up nestled right beside her in the back! She’s sort of panicking now though, she’s never been this close to you before and you smell really good? And your eyes are so pretty? And wow your voice is so nice??? Yeah she’s going kinda crazy and the more you guys talk the weirder she feels in her chest. Sevika then goes to throw some of her best distances yet and everyone jokes that you’re a good luck charm for her. You laugh it off, but Sevika is fully convinced of it and makes sure to talk to you more before her meets.
You both get closer and closer as the season goes by and Sevika feels like she’s gonna explode. You help her stretch every now and then when she subtly complains about her shoulder feeling weird and it drives her crazy. She kinda falls into a trance when your hands meet her shoulders and she immediately relaxes and lets her mind wonder off. She’s most definitely not thinking about you touching her somewhere else. You’ve picked up on the way she acts around you now, and you think it’s so cute. You might do something about it when the season’s over….
